In Austria, cake isn’t just dessert—it’s an event. Afternoon coffee, is reason enough to slice into something rich, layered, and indulgent. In Tyrol, the tradition runs deep: the café window as a stage, the glass case a gallery of edible art.
When I'm in Austria (Or anywhere to be honest), I love to wander into a Konditorei (Pastry shop) mid-morning, when the day’s baking is still warm. In many bakeries you will find a few well-known classics;
There’s Topfentorte—a really light cheesecake—next to glossy slices of Esterházytorte, with its elegant nutty layers and delicate fondant glaze. On the counter, baskets of still-warm Buchteln (yeast buns) hide apricot jam centres, dusted generously with sugar. Order one with a Melange (Viennese coffee with milk) and you’re set for the day—or at least until lunch.
In the Arlberg, patisserie culture meets alpine chic.
In winter, the jewel of the counter is often Sachertorte: rich chocolate sponge, a whisper of apricot jam, and a chocolate glaze that shines like a frozen lake. Served with a dollop of unsweetened whipped cream, it’s proof that restraint can live alongside indulgence.
Then there’s the Kardinalschnitten, a meringue-and-sponge creation with alternating stripes of cream and cake, invented in Vienna but adopted wholeheartedly in Tyrol.
The joy of Tyrolean patisserie is not just in the taste, but in the setting. Cakes are rarely rushed here; they are served with ceremony, a small jug of water for your coffee, and always the possibility of a second fork, should someone wish to “just have a bite.”
If the mountains are Tyrol’s backbone, then its cakes are the smile—warm, welcoming, and impossible not to return to. And trust me: when the Konditorei door closes behind you and the scent of fresh baking lingers in your scarf, you’ll already be planning your next visit.
(Sorry I couldn't wait to eat this cake in Cafe Gredler, Zell am Ziller)
